wolftamer9:> I hate to say it, but it sounds like you only have one option. Wriggle out and stave off death for a couple of minutes at least.

No choice, she's gotta slide out of the suit. It's not a good idea, even if it works, but it's better then drowning.

Purple splotches are starting to appear in front of her eyes. That's probably a bad sign.

She tries to wriggle, her trapped hand screams in protest. She just has to -

-the cobblestone beneath her, the one pressing into her right shoulder-blade, shifts.

It's loose.

BreadProduct:Fish around for a hard object to put between the door and the floor.

musicalEmpathist:Well thank you, good sir, for the kind and encouraging words of wisdom XD

Bina> Survive, you can do this. You've gotten yourself out of worse. If you can lift the door even the tiniest bit so you can wriggle out, try it. I've been pinned under things like this before, maybe not as heavy nor drowning in mud, but similar. Wave your free hand around for any sort of debris you can shove under the door to keep it open if you're not strong enough yourself.

If she can grab it.

Get it under the door.

Does she have enough time? Enough air?

How long has she been under? Ten seconds? It feels like hours.

She bends her arm, twisting, trying to get it beneath her. The door does not cooperate. It wants to close.

Sorry door. She's trying to get out of the way.

She can't get her arm behind her back.

If she could just get a couple of inches of clearance…

Of course, if she had a couple of inches of clearance, this wouldn't be necessary. She could just slip under and away.

Bodies under the mud. All those bodies. All those little plastic flags.

She never should have stopped taking yoga.

Will they find her? The people who come looking for the missing scientists, with flash-lights and radios. Will they find her under the mud?

Will they give her a flag?

She wonders what colour it will be.

She can feel herself starting to panic. She ignores it. It's just fear. She's used to fear.

She shifts her weight sideways, off the cobble. Her chest isn't happy about that at all but she ignores that too. Her ribs can be broken later. For now, she needs leverage.

Oh who's she kidding?

She knows what colour the flag's going to be.

Stars burst behind her eyelids, a personal fireworks show available only to the incredibly high or the significantly drowning.